


DownTime

by BigDaddySolas



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 12:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17746001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigDaddySolas/pseuds/BigDaddySolas
Summary: Solas spends an afternoon with a sleepy Inquisitor.





	DownTime

Solas had never thought the Inquisitor to be very physically affectionate. Lavellan would come around, endearing grin on his face, but keep a respectful distance while asking for advice or stories. During their walks outside of Skyhold and through the trees--just the two of them--Lavellan would ask for his hand to hold with an eager smile. When they could get some alone time, it was usually spent eating together or napping at the Inquisitor's suggestion.

Solas would join him in bed, and more often than not, he'd be greeted with a goodnight kiss before finding himself with a dozing bedmate. He couldn't fault anyone who had such endless and difficult leadership responsibilities with wanting to do nothing more than relax during the down times, so he’d indulge him whenever possible.

The couch in Solas’ work area was a favorite place to unwind, the entire room quiet despite filled with people on the upper levels. Lavellan had been sitting next to him, then against him, then somehow had flopped on him in the span of a few page turns, and the easy silence they shared settled into their usual comfortable intimacy.

All it took was Lavellan laying across his lap on his side like a spoiled and napping dog, Solas using the curve of the other's waist to prop up his book. Fingertips trailed over Lavellan's hip repeatedly in a soothing manner while he read. In this arrangement, Solas was reminded how easy to please the Inquisitor was. All he needed was some attention and affection, and he was content. Whenever he was riled up, it would only take a few kind words to soften him.

One day, Solas had made a comment over how young Lavellan acted when the other was in the middle of whining about work, the Inquisitor boneless against his desk and face pressed to its surface. Predictably, he jerked up with an offended look and sputtered out his age--not as low as was originally thought. He then proceeded to list off every accomplishment and ordeal he had gone through since they met in an effort to prove his maturity with such an intensity that Solas smiled and kissed him.

Lavellan had stared at him a moment, blessedly quiet, before he coughed out that laugh of his and moved in for another kiss. Solas had tilted his neck and denied the both of them, continuing to smile gently when Lavellan huffed and declared him rude for his actions, but the younger elf continued on with paperwork with little hitch after that.

Getting him to work wasn't a hard task, but when he was already resting, his stubborn resistance to simply moving could engage even Solas' steady patience. It was something to remember when Solas felt his feet begin to lose feeling from the weight over his legs, and he squeezed the other's hip. 

"Get up," he commanded. Lavellan didn't even stir, and Solas drummed fingertips against him to get his attention. "I know you're awake.” He could tell even with the other's back was facing him. “My legs are falling asleep."

Lavellan made a small noise and murmured, "Let them walk in the fade then."

He had to give him a little credit for that quip, and it was given in the form of allowing him to stay put a bit longer. Not to mention, it would take effort to move him physically. The other man was already heavy--much like the usual mauls and war hammers he'd lug around--but when he was sleepy, he'd be difficult to move unless there was a joint effort. 

It was certainly a problem when the Inquisitor would use his head to take one too many blows in battle and come out of it dazed and tripping over his own feet. Solas would do what he could to bandage him and would stagger when Lavellan clung to him when they resumed walking.

Solas would suggest that--perhaps--it might be wise to consider using a shield as some of the others did, but Lavellan would only keep hanging onto him to press his face into Solas' neck while grinning.

It was very like him to not listen to such suggestions that would benefit the both of them, even now when there was the unspoken hint for them to retire to either one of their quarters to resume resting. Solas preferred not to speak what he wanted outright, letting his tone do the work.

“Inquisitor,” he said, clipped, thumb sliding subtly along the other's hip.

When Lavellan didn't move, Solas began to think that it was possible that he wasn't being clear enough in his intentions. But it only took a few more moments before the other reacted, Lavellan letting out a low groan and burying his face further into his arms along with even more grunting and moaning than necessary. 

“Don't want to...”

It was easy to ignore the whining tone since it only came out when Lavellan wanted to tease him or to Give Him A Hard Time.

"You child," Solas chided, not unkindly, but Lavellan dismissed him with a shrug off his shoulders and without so much as a glance.

When he realized Lavellan really wasn't going to move, he leaned back against the couch cushions to look over the Inquisitor’s resting body. It was the simple beige outfit of his that really stood out. The other man seemed to love it enough that he'd wear it daily. It was tailored well to his body, the fitted clothing riding an inch or two up his back in his earlier efforts to get comfy. 

The corner of his mouth tugged into the smallest amused smile, and he grazed his fingers up along the other's spine, willing forth a burst of coldness across exposed skin. 

The noise that flew from the other’s mouth could certainly have been described as a shriek.

Lavellan jolted away at the same time, toppling to the floor when he ran out of space on Solas’ thighs. 

He was nimble and surprisingly graceful out in a battle, and he could handle the frigid weather with barely a shiver, but even a warrior couldn't be blamed for flailing into a surprised heap after that assault.

Lavellan stared up at him as he pushed himself to his forearms. “How _dare_ …” he slowly breathed out as his eyes narrowed.

Solas easily took up his book once more. “You had ample time to listen. You chose not to.”

There was a call from above, Dorian staring down from the second floor with an expression of concern and confusion. “What happened?”

“He attacked me!" Though he tried to look and sound indignant, Lavellan’s words and expression were laced with amusement. "I demand you smite him.”

Dorian blinked once, before drawing out his question in mock disbelief. “Rain down fire and brimstone? Where there are hundreds upon hundreds of valuable and ancient books?” 

There was no hesitation when Lavellan nodded resolutely. “Yes.”

Solas raised a brow at him, and Dorian gave him a thoroughly entertained look as he pressed his elbows against the railing, leaning over and tilting his head. “I'm going to have to side with Solas on this one.”

Lavellan wrinkled his nose up at him--at the _both_ of them. “Traitor.”


End file.
